[Arvedui III]

"Rangar, do you suppose these people know where to find the seer?"

"Hm?" Rangar said, wondering what had broken his thoughts. "Do you think they might know something?" Bregand repeated. "Mayhap, but," Rangar broke off, looking around at several Haradrim who were eying them in a manner that suggested their welcome had already been worn out. "It might not be the best idea." Finished Rave, also looking skittishly at several villagers. It was understandable. The last time they had asked a village for aid, they'd ended up being chased half-way 'cross Rohan; No telling what would happen in Harad. "We have no leads to go on, worst that can happen-" Tareth began, but Rangar did not want to know the worst that could happen. He got up, and not knowing fully what he was going to do, entered the small inn.

It was dank, almost murky, and very uninviting. The rest of the company didn't appear to be following, so Rangar took out his's pipe, more out of nerves than anything else, for he didn't smoke, and filled it with old leaf. A very lank, swarthy man on his right eyed the pipe with interest, Rangar noted. "Want some?" He said, offering the pipe toward the man. He laughed. Rangar wasn't sure if this was bad or good, but he hoped someone would say something soon, even a curse would quell his nerves a little. "You know this isn't Gondor, right?" The man chortled in surprisingly good Westron, as he took the pipe. It's a start. "It isn't?!" Rangar cried in mock-panic, which he hoped the man could read as humor. "Afraid not, friend." Friend, huh. "Ohh, well. Guess I'll just have to keep wandering around till I find it." Rangar sighed. Most of the rest of the inn were either smiling, albeit viciously, at Rangar or had gone back to ignoring him.

"Are you a leaf-selling?" The man now holding his's pipe pressed eagerly. "No, sorry." Rangar answered. Now, ask it. "Say, you wouldn't happen to have heard a story about some Seer 'round here?" The man's smile vanished. "Where did you hear of far-sight?" He asked seriously, though it did not disguise the shock in his voice. "Dunno," Rangar shrugged Don't want to set a panic. "Why? Is it true?" Said Rangar, trying to sound bemused. "Very much true." The man said, still very seriously. "Wouldn't go to him though, there's a high price for what he does. You'd best go find Gondor. Not many here like your folk." The man near growled. That can't be good. "I know. You wouldn't happen to know where to find this far-sight, would you?" Rangar asked anyway, trying to keep his voice level. "You are very stupid." The Haradrim said, openly angry. What now?"I know, I don't intend on going, but just for the good story this would make once I do find Gondor." Rangar said through a grin, silently congratulating himself on the fact that for once his false answer hadn't been stupid.

"Ah, well, it's a set of hills not that far from here. Small house, most curious, yet ordinary at the same time. We ignore it. Does that make a good tale?" "Yes," Rangar laughed triumphantly. "Wouldn't of change a word." "You need something?" A craggy voice said, very clearly in an annoyed version of Westron. The bar-tender. "No, no, just some shade." Rangar excused himself quickly, not wanting to linger. "Herm, go then." The Haradrim man handed him the pipe back as he got up. "Perhaps some other time, edain." He whispered. Rangar was a bit taken aback, and half-wanted to continue talking to this man; But then Enien and Calmir walked in, and by the looks of it, another long talk was in store for him. "Come on," Rangar muttered as he pushed them out the door. "I know where we're going."

[ June 18, 2003: Message edited by: Arvedui III ]